Chapter 8 Not here

Lazarus's pov

“Flowers? Really?” Alec’s voice carries from the couch, full of disbelief and amusement. “You couldn’t be more cheesy if you tried.”

I don’t look up from the paper I’ve been pretending to read for the last ten minutes. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Alec snorts, loud and careless. “How about not sending flowers? You look like you’re courting a schoolteacher.”

I raise a brow without lifting my gaze. “You’re one to talk. You proposed to Alexandria with a ring hidden in a meat pie.”

He grins proudly, like it’s something to brag about. “And she said yes.”

I shake my head and sign the document in front of me, not even caring what it says. “Unbelievable.”

The office feels smaller today. Alec’s lounging on the couch with his boots on my coffee table, munching on chips, like this is his house. Papers cover half my desk, most of them reports I haven’t touched. I should be focused on work — patrol routes, rogue sightings, pack accounts — but all I can think about is the barn. The sound of her voice. The way her eyes burned when she looked at me like I’d set her whole world on fire.

I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “The meeting earlier,” I say, changing the topic before he starts teasing again. “We need to handle those rogue attacks before they push closer to the border.”

That wipes the grin off his face. He straightens, wipes his hands on his jeans. “Agreed. The patrols say the rogues aren’t moving like usual. Smarter this time.”

“Smarter means organized,” I mutter. “Someone’s behind it.”

We go through the reports together — names of scouts, areas attacked, sketches of the ridges near the eastern side. I’m listening, but my thoughts are split. Every time I blink, I see her again. Her hair, the curve of her jaw, the fury that made her shake when she yelled at me.

Alec reads something from a list, pretending to sound serious. “Number one: Mrs. Kellan says her neighbor’s rooster keeps chasing her chickens.”

I grunt.

“Number two: Mason wants shorter shifts because his mate complains he snores too loudly after patrol.”

I glance up. “And the serious ones?”

He flips the paper. “Number three: someone’s been stealing drugs from the pack clinic.”

“That’s new.”

“Yeah. Everyone’s got problems, Alpha. Big or small.”

We keep sorting through the endless work — things that need fixing, people who need reassurance. It’s part of leadership, the constant weight of keeping the pack steady. Usually, I can drown in it and forget everything else for a while. But not today.

A knock comes, followed by the door opening before I can answer. Alexandria steps in, looking like she always does — calm, warm, a little too radiant for a place full of wolves.

Alec’s face lights up instantly. He stands, crosses the room, and pulls her close without hesitation. His hand finds her ass, and she squeals softly before laughing against his mouth.

“Seriously?” I mutter, signing another document.

Alec grins against her lips. “Don’t be jealous, Alpha.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m trying not to vomit.”

Alexandria laughs, that soft melodic sound that fills the room. “He says that every time.”

“He’s just lonely,” Alec adds, his tone teasing, his hand still resting where it shouldn’t.

I glare at him. “Still here, in case you forgot.”

They both laugh again, like I’m part of some inside joke. It’s easy for them. They have what everyone wants — peace, warmth, that sense of belonging. Watching them, I feel a flicker of something sharp and foreign twist inside me.

Alexandria brushes her hair back. “Your mother called,” she says with a grin. “She wants us all to come for dinner tonight.”

I groan. “Now?”

“Yes, Alpha,” she teases. “Apparently she made stew. And she sounded… persuasive.”

Alec slaps my back. “Can’t say no to Mama Greyson. Let’s go before she sends the Omegas to drag us there.”

I sigh and stand, pushing back my chair. “Fine.”

We head out together, the sound of our boots echoing down the hall. Alec and Alexandria walk ahead, still laughing about something I don’t care enough to catch. I slow down a little, letting the space grow between us.

For a moment, the noise of the packhouse fades — replaced by something quieter, heavier.

Her scent drifts back to me again, as if it’s been waiting in the corners of my mind all day. That same pull crawls through my chest, deep and demanding. I can still feel the moment I touched her — the spark that burned straight through my skin, the way my wolf howled in recognition.

Go back.

His voice is a growl inside my head, low and rough.

“Later,” I mutter under my breath. “We’ll go later.”

Because I already know I will. I’ll go back to her — to that damn farm, to the woman who called me a monster but still covered me when I was half-dead.

I tell myself it’s just to repay her for the goat. Anthony. But even saying the name makes my lips twitch. Who names their goats?

No, this isn’t about debt. It’s about her.

The way she looked at me like she could tear me apart.

The way she made me feel alive again.

And the way every second away from her feels like something is missing.

By the time we reach the door that leads outside, Alec glances back. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” I answer absently.

But my mind is already far from here — in the quiet of the barn, where her scent still lingers, where I’ll go back sooner than I should.

Because I can’t stop thinking about her.

And it’s driving me insane.